(18+) Florilegium: A DeVanté Swing Collection

Limeade | 1

Limeade: a drink made from lime juice and water sweetened with sugar. Encourages turning sourness and difficulty into something positive.

Lemonade: a drink made from lemon juice and sweetened water.
Encourages turning sourness and difficulty into something positive.

Poetry, as well as music, are important to the plot. Aida has NO face claim. She's whoever you want her to be... Why? Because this may or may not be turned into its own book AGAIN. 

Beyoncé made Lemonade, and I'm making Limeade.

🚩📢If you are uncomfortable reading and/or watching the 50 Shades series- LEAVE because I don't wanna hear any complaints later!🚩📢🚩

Date: March 21, 2014

Aida (Pronounce eye•E•dah/ Like the opera.) walked up the pavement of her and her husband Donald's large Greek revival-styled home with their five-year-old almost six-year-old son, Ocean, and newly three-year-old daughter, Jade. Aida noticed open windows. Ignoring it, she unlocked it and then opened the door. Her kids walked inside, yapping about to one another while taking off their jackets.

Aida got a deep whiff of something burning. It hit her throat, so she knew it was still fresh. She hung her keys up, and set the food and her papers on a nearby table. Aida's high heels clicked against the wooden floor able to be heard by her husband who's currently in the kitchen. She followed the scent into the kitchen to be greeted by her husband who was in the kitchen, cooking. Cooking?

"Uhh, what're you doing?" She questioned her husband.

"I'm making us dinner." He replied coolly.

"I smell how that went." She chuckled under her breath. "What'd you burn?"

He smiled at her for the first time in a long time. "I tried to come up with my own dish. You know, I was thinking of a cookbook. Fried mashed potato eggs." He moistened his lips.

"Mashed potato cakes?" She rose her eyebrows. "But with eggs..." Her face scrunched up.

"No, I mean putting oil at the bottom of a pot and pouring in mashed potatoes. They were too watery and caught on fire. The whole water and oil thing didn't click until it did."

Aida shook her head at her husband, laughing. "Well, I'm glad you're alright."

She briefly pecked his cheek, but her eyes caught a glimpse of something. It was the burnt pot in the sink. Aida went to it and picked it up laughing.

"Wow! Really, Don?" She said in pure disbelief.

"What!? I told you it caught on fire!" He said laughing.

"A damn shame. Why didn't you just call chef?" Aida asked Donald.

"I wanted to surprise everyone."

She tilted her head forward. "With fried and let's not forget watery mashed potatoes?"

"Look, don't talk shit about my cookin' when yo ass can't even cook shit." He told her.